Phantom
by Megana
Summary: Sequel to "Sing Sweetly for Me" - Meg's future hopes are haunted by the ghost of her past.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

* * *

Meg: Disclaimer: Basil, Dawson, and Ratigan are the property of Disney and may not be used without permission. All other characters belong to me, with the exception of my crew: JWJ, RAEB, Lizz, Emma, Sarah, and Leigh. Those six aren't even part of the story.  
  
JWJ: Good, because if we were owned by you, I'd go insane.  
  
Meg: You are insane. Oh by the way, this is the sequel to "Sing Sweetly For Me."

* * *

May 1901-  
  
"Jack, this is hardly the time for this!"  
  
"But Abigail, I'm being completely sincere! My darling, I meant-"  
  
"You meant what? You meant to tell me about... about you and her! You've been seeing her behind my back!"  
  
"You know it's only you I could ever love."  
  
He tried to grab my paw, but then the backdrop fell down on us.  
  
"Aaaahhhh! I can't see!"  
  
A bright light blinded me as my fiancé Josh pulled the canvas tarp off of me. He grinned teasingly. "Meg, I know you love me, but you don't have to destroy all the scenery to avoid the kissing scene."  
  
"Oh, stop it, you villain!" I said, laughing. He pulled me up.  
  
My fellow actor, Nicholas Kaminski, was still tangled in the backdrop. "Somebody help me!" he barked out. Josh rolled his eyes.  
  
The director of our production ran up to us. "Miss Sarentis, Mr. Kaminski, this is the fourth time this week this has happened! And it's always after the same line. What is going on here?"  
  
"Mr. Merino, that stage crew isn't doing their job!" Kaminski complained. "They are impossible to work with! I thought this was a professional organization, not some juvenile troupe of ragtag performers! I have half a mind to leave now!"  
  
"Now, now Mr. Kaminski, we can work this out!" Merino said nervously. "Don't worry, we'll fix this little problem right away! You just stay there now!" The small director then whirled his anger on Josh. "Mr. Havers, you're supposed to stay in the orchestra pit! I didn't ask for a violinist in my production!"  
  
"All right, all right, I'm going!" Josh patted my paw and ran backstage. He and I knew how important this job was for him. He couldn't make too many slips.  
  
Kaminski still complained, this time about me. I struggled to hold in my temper as he said, "And how can I expect to work with such an unprofessional staff! I get sent a mere child to act in an adult play! How insulting! This isn't a gypsy act; the Queen herself will be there!"  
  
My cheeks flushed. It wasn't my fault he was 40 and I was only 18. Luckily, I had been better at holding in my temper over the past few months. I turned away.  
  
"Besides, she's associated with the foulest fiend in all Mousedom! I can't associate myself with someone with so shameful a reputation!" That did it. I lost my head. I was about to tell the snobby mouse off, when another crash sounded throughout the theater. I whirled around to find two broken sandbags on the ground, the contents quickly spilling out.  
  
"Mr. Kaminski!" I ran to the crumpled, sand-covered body. "Somebody get a doctor. He's had an accident!"

* * *

That evening as Josh walked me to my flat, we discussed Kaminski's accident.  
  
"Is he going to be all right?" I asked. Josh had accompanied Dr. Dawson to the hospital with the actor.  
  
"They think so. It didn't kill him. But he won't be able to perform for several weeks yet." We walked in silence for a few moments. "Meg, this is strange. It seems that a lot of strange things have been happening recently at the theater. Scenery falling, props disappearing... all sorts of odd things."  
  
"Well, the theater is several decades old. Maybe the cables and supports aren't as strong as they used to be," I reasoned.  
  
"But sweetheart, doesn't it concern you that that one backdrop kept falling at the same part of the same scene?" he asked.  
  
"I admit that's a bit odd, sure, but there must be some logical explanation for all of this."  
  
"Strange," Josh muttered.  
  
I stopped and grasped his hands, breathing in the sweet spring air. "Josh Havers, stop worrying! It was just an accident, nothing more. Can't we forget about this for just a little while?" I playfully fluttered my eyes. "Please?"  
  
"Oh, all right." He squeezed my paw. "So, you have a day off tomorrow. What are you going to do?"  
  
"You don't have a day off, too?"  
  
"No," he sighed. "Practice, practice."  
  
"Well, since you're busy, I'll just... umm..."  
  
"Oh no, not again! Meg, this must be the third time this month! How many judges have you seen?"  
  
I looked down, ashamed. "I lost count a while ago."  
  
Josh cupped his paw in my chin. "Meg, I'm so sorry. I could've stopped him. If only I had spoken up! I'm such a coward."  
  
Tears flowed down my face. "It's not your fault, Josh. I agreed to the plan. I let him."  
  
"But you were saving Anne's life. I knew they were going to kill her, even if you said yes. I could've stopped him!"  
  
"Josh, don't blame yourself. It was all his fault, not yours." We arrived at my flat. Josh was depressed. "I love you," I said.  
  
"I love you too." He gave me a kiss. "Good luck tomorrow."

* * *

RAEB, Lizz, Emma, Sarah, Leigh: Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwww!  
  
JWJ: Stop it! What's with girls and kissing anyway?  
  
RAEB: You are so unromantic.  
  
JWJ: No, I'm just so normal.  
  
Meg: _(coughs, which sounds like "Manda")  
_  
JWJ: _(rolls eyes)_  
  
Emma: The scenery falling down and the props disappearing sounds like "The Phantom of the Opera."  
  
Leigh: _(sarcastically)_ I wonder why she calls the story "Phantom," Emma.  
  
Emma: Oh!  
  
Sarah: You're writing a story about the Phantom of the Opera?  
  
Meg: No.  
  
JWJ: Sheesh. You are really bad about copying off of other authors.  
  
Meg: If you think you can do better, you write the story. 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

* * *

JWJ: Once upon a time there was this stupid mouse and this stupid rat and all they did was run around London. Finally the mouse killed the rat and then the mouse was killed and all the humans didn't care and JWJ became president and outlawed all mouse stories and everyone lived happily ever after. The End.

Meg: That's it? That's the brilliant story of JWJ?

JWJ: I would rather read that than what you write.

Meg: And who would vote for you for the presidency anyway? Oh wait, I forgot. _(coughs, sounds like "Manda.")  
_  
RAEB: If you'd just ignore him, he wouldn't bother you like this.

* * *

I stormed out of the courthouse, Basil of Baker Street running after me.

"Megana, wait just a minute!" he said.

"I can't believe him! You think I could get a simple divorce, but no! Why won't they let me?" Basil struggled to keep up with me.

"Miss Sarentis, calm down! We'll solve this."

I stamped my foot, frustrated. "Mr. Basil, I'm tired of this. Why won't any of them help me?"

Basil patted my shoulder. "Don't worry; where there's a will, there's a way."

"But there's no way. Basil, this is eating me up. I can tell Josh gets upset, too. I'm afraid to go to him and tell him the bad news yet again."

"That didn't seem to stop him from asking for your hand in marriage."

I hung my head. Basil stood next to me. "Meg, go home. I'll solve this."

"Can you?" I asked.

"I've never failed before," he said, grinning. "Meg, go home and forget about all this for a while."

I toyed with my purse clasp. "I will never be able to forget as long as I live."

"I know," he said. "Now, I have an appointment at three o'clock, so if you'll pardon me, I must be on my way."

"All right. Thank you for trying, Mr. Basil," I said. We parted.

Instead of going home, however, I went to the library.

After being assisted by the librarian, I went through a record of old newspapers, starting from thirty years ago. It took me a while, but I finally saw one that was of interest to me.

_NEW DETECTIVE CRACKS CASE_ the title read. It was dated November 1883. The article was based on an illegal drug dealer by the name of Professor James Ratigan, whose operation Basil had exposed. The dealer himself had escaped.

I shivered at the picture of my husband, 17 years younger. He looked exactly the same as he had the last time I had seen him.

_So this is how Basil first met Ratigan,_ I thought.

I pulled out another set of newspapers, this time from December 1900. This time the title read:_ RATIGAN STRIKES AGAIN! Late Professor Still Alive!_ I quickly skimmed this article, growing more ashamed of myself. How could I have let this happen!

Embarrassed, I quickly gathered the papers up and put them back into the file cabinets. _I shouldn't have even come here. I just keep reminding myself._

Rain poured outside. I hadn't even noticed. I didn't have an umbrella; I was going to get drenched. I left the library, hurrying to get home as quickly as possible. Few mice were on the streets.

I was walking along, trying to hail a cab, when I heard it. I jumped, scared out of my wits. I turned around; no one was in sight. Then it happened again. _"Mrs. Ratigan!"_ a voice hissed.

Terrified, I ran. I ran, blind fear following me. He was everywhere! Every sound was he, sneaking up on me. Every shadow was he, waiting to grab me.

I somehow arrived at my door, fumbling with the doorknob. I finally got the door open, stumbling into the hallway. I slammed the door shut, sobbing silently. Mrs. Hanson, my landlady, came running down the stairs.

"Miss Sarentis, Miss Sarentis, why, what happened?"

* * *

Josh left the London Theater Company in a hurry. He had hoped to see Meg that evening, but someone else changed his plans. He was roughly grabbed and a paw clamped over his mouth. Josh struggled, trying to fight off the strong grip of the creature. Then his captor said, "Mr. Havers, stop it! It's Basil!"

Josh stopped. He was released. He turned around, and saw a hardened old crone glaring at him. With a few quick changes, Basil appeared before his eyes, dripping wet.

"Basil! What in heaven's name are you doing? I was reaching for my knife. I would've stabbed you!"

"No you wouldn't have." Basil twirled a switchblade between his fingers. "Havers, follow me."

Basil led him to Baker Street. After sending Mrs. Judson to get some tea boiling, the detective produced a book from one of the shelves.

"Basil," Josh began, "what were you doing in that alley? If you wanted to talk to me, all you had to do was ask me, as most mice would've done."

"Josh, I have wanted to speak with you for quite some time." Basil flipped open the book in his paw. "I accompanied Meg to see Judge Taylor today."

"What happened?" Josh asked urgently. He became downcast when he saw the look in the detective's eyes. "Not again," Josh groaned.

"We were informed, none to kindly, that Ratigan would have to agree to the divorce as well."

"This is ridiculous! They can't force a young girl to remain married to a criminal, especially if she was forced to do so! If only I had stopped him. It's all my fault!"

Basil said, "British law does not require that you need both spouses to agree to a divorce in such a case. But every judge I have told this to has laughed at me. One judge reviewed Meg's reasons for marrying him, and then told her that she had never really been forced to do so, since it had happened in front of an audience. Another judge even asked you fiancé if she really wanted to bring such shame upon herself by getting a divorce!"

"Shame? She's already been shamed enough!" Josh said angrily. "This is impossible, Basil!"

"I know," he said. "I have been investigating this. The law would've divorced her quickly. But I have been doing a little prying around, and have come up with something." He pulled out four letters from his desk drawer. "I copied these. But since all the judges we've gone to have had these, I've come to one conclusion: Someone is blackmailing them into preventing Meg from divorcing Ratigan."

"It has to be him! Basil, he's still alive!"

"Yes. That means that you and your fiancé are in grave danger, Josh. He may harm you both for revenge. I have reason to believe that he may kill you."

"What should we do?"

"I would suggest leaving the country, but he may have ways of finding you. Josh, the only way I believe you can remain safe is if you break the engagement." Josh glared at him. Basil continued, "I know that's not the most favorable option, but-"

"But WHAT?" Josh shouted. "I will not abandon Meg! I don't care what he can do to me; I don't care anymore. I will NOT be threatened by that no-good, hateful sewer RAT again!"

"I thought as much." Basil sat down in his armchair, suddenly looking exhausted. "Mr. Havers, I suggest that you leave your flat, for the time being, and reside here for a while." Before Josh could protest, the detective said, "If anything _did_ happen to you, it would be possible for me to find Ratigan more efficiently."

Josh pondered the offer for a moment. "All right, I'll do it."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

* * *

It was opening night of the London Theater Company's play _Saral_. Basil glanced around the elaborate theater, searching for any suspicious activity. He looked down at Josh in the orchestra pit. Josh nodded to the detective as he tuned his violin. Dr. Dawson was sitting in the chair next to him. The lights dimmed as the curtain rose.  
  
I, meanwhile, was as nervous and jumpy as could be, waiting in the wing for my entrance cue. I had received several threatening notes over the past few weeks, not to mention the feelin that someone was following me every time I went out. Josh had moved in with Basil for some strange reason. He told me it was because his other flat was going under a few repairs, but I found out from Mr. Bailey, his landlord, one day while passing the boardinghouse, that there were no repairs under way at his old flat. Someone had tried to break into Basil's flat the first night he was there, which the mysterious letter-writer had forewarned. The writer had also threatened to kill Josh if I told anything to Basil.  
  
Merino the director walked over to me, disturbing my thoughts. "Miss Sarentis," he said, "your entrance is in a few more lines. Now remember, the Queen is here, and we can't have any mistakes. Are you ready for this?" I nodded dumbly, hardly hearing the pep talk. "All right, you're on!" He lightly pushed me toward the stage.  
  
The first act was flawless. A slightly younger actor named Albert Olk, who was more willing to work with me, had replaced Kaminski. I actually forgot all my problems on stage.  
  
At intermission, Basil and Dawson paid me a quick visit in my dressing room. "What a performance!" Dawson congratulated me. "Bravo, Meg!"  
  
Basil looked a bit distracted. "Oh, yes, very good. Everything all right back here, Miss Sarentis?"  
  
"Yes," I said uncertainly. He was making me nervous. "I'm quite fine, Basil." I stopped talking. He was examining the walls of the room. "Well, I need to prepare for the next act. Thank you all for visiting me."  
  
"Oh, certainly. The Queen must be having such an enjoyable time!" Dawson said. "Right, Basil?"  
  
"Oh. Yes."  
  
Not two minutes after they left, another knock resounded on my door. "Who is it?" I asked.  
  
"Delivery for a Missus Megana."  
  
I opened the door. A young delivery boy stood there with a bouquet of a dozen gorgeous red roses. "Why, thank you!" I exclaimed. "Who are they from?"  
  
Instead of saying Josh like I thought he would, he replied, "The gent wanted to be listed 'Anonymous' Missus."  
  
After he left, I placed them on my vanity, searching for a note. I found one and opened it. It said:  
  
_To an exemplary performance, my sweet Megana, whose short  
career shall reach the finale before the play's end.  
_  
I dropped the note, suddenly terrified. _Was it really him?  
_  
The second act was frightening to me. I could tell he was there. He was watching me.  
  
Well into the play I could smell smoke. Some inconsiderate smoker in the audience I thought. But then the smell became stronger. Soon thick, black smoke started to fill the theater.  
  
"FIRE!"  
  
Immediately a panic arose. Everyone jumped up from their seats and scrambled to the exits. I ran backstage, trying to find Josh. "Josh, Josh!" I shouted. I pushed my way through the musicians trying to exit, looking for my fiancé.  
  
Suddenly, a strong pair of hands grabbed me, covering my mouth before I could shout out for help. "You're mine, Meg," my captor whispered evilly to me. I kicked him in the shins and scrambled away as he cursed and grabbed his leg. I took one look back, but couldn't see him. He must have still been behind the curtains.  
  
I ran straight into Basil coming from the opposite direction. "Meg!" He grasped my arm, pulling me to an exit. Flames blocked each one.  
  
"There's no way out!" I screamed.  
  
"We'll find a way. Follow me!"  
  
He started to climb a ladder backstage, which led to the rafters of the theater. I pulled off my clothes down to my undergarments, following suit. Before we reached the top, the ladder started to fall. "JUMP!" Basil yelled. I jumped into the air. Before I fell, Basil grabbed me around the waist, swinging from a rope to the Queen's balcony seat. We stumbled to the floor. Soon we were up and running again, this time to the stairs to the roof. When we got there, the exit was once again barred with flames. I was starting to get dizzy from the smoke.  
  
"End of the line, Basil!"  
  
We turned around. Professor Ratigan was standing there, leering at us. My heart skipped a beat. He was alive! I hid behind Basil, self-conscious. "What do you want, rat?" Basil said. I stared fearfully at Basil. Ratigan was going to kill him now!  
  
"Just revenge against the one who took my wife away from me."  
  
"Your wife? YOUR WIFE! She was never legally your wife, Ratigan!"  
  
"Basil?" I asked timidly. I was almost overwhelmed from the smoke.  
  
Basil steadied me before I fell. "See what you did to her?" he shouted to Ratigan. "She's inhaling smoke!"  
  
Basil then did something totally bold. He threw me over his shoulder and darted up the stairs, through the fire. I heard gunshots as we left the rat behind us. "I'll get you for this, BASIL!" he screeched. "I'LL HAVE HER YET!"  
  
On the rooftop, Basil searched for a ladder that would lead downward. When he couldn't find one, he backed up, still holding me. He took a running leap off the building, landing on the building next to the London Theater. The theater collapsed behind us.

* * *

JWJ: Why did I see this coming?  
  
Lizz: He's not dead!  
  
Leigh: 'I'm getting better!'  
  
Emma: We need to stop the "Monty Python and the Holy Grail" quotes.  
  
JWJ: Sheesh, why do you all even like that movie? Sounds so stupid.  
  
Leigh: That's why it's so great!  
  
Meg: Stop it! Thanks Leigh, now we're really off topic!  
  
RAEB: I don't get it. Why did you kill Ratigan and then bring him back to life again?  
  
Meg: First of all, I had never said he was dead. You all just assumed that he was dead. I said that the body was never found.  
  
JWJ: A loophole that you used to bring Ratigan back into the picture in that "Sing Sweetly" story. It is so unrealistic.  
  
Meg: Get over it. 


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

* * *

Meg: I have to admit, "Phantom" isn't one of my best stories. Oh well, it makes sense when you read the rest of my Meg Sarentis stories.

JWJ: Well I don't like any of your stories!

Meg: You don't like anything except politics. Oh, and your girlfriend. Your away messages are so sickeningly sweet. _(mimicking JWJ's away message) _'Manda- I love you soooooooooo much!'

JWJ: You're just jealous because you don't have a boyfriend!

Meg: No, I'm not. Being single is FREEDOM!

* * *

"He sent you letters, and you didn't tell us?" Basil asked angrily.  
  
It was hours later. I was still coughing from the smoke inhalation I had received. Josh was sporting a few cuts and bruises he had received from one of Ratigan's thugs. ("You should have seen the other guy," he replied when I got upset over it.)  
  
"He threatened to kill Josh," I said. "Besides, I wasn't quite sure it was him. I thought I had killed him in Copenhagen. And besides, you never told me the truth about why Josh moved into your flat, Basil!"  
  
"Well, now we're faced with a problem. Now that we know that Ratigan is definitely alive and ready for revenge, your days are going to be numbered. He most definitely was the one upsetting scenery in fits of jealous rage, and I have reason to believe he caused Kaminski's accident."  
  
Something suddenly became clear to me. "Of course he did!" I exclaimed. "Kaminski had been insulting my reputation, as well as Ratigan himself, right before the accident! And the scenery only fell during the kissing scene."  
  
"You should go into hiding."  
  
"But where would we go?"  
  
"Meg," Josh said, "I think I have an idea where you could go, at least for a little while. We could disguise you as a poor, deprived bum and put you with contacts in my old neighborhood."  
  
"What?"  
  
"I like this idea," Basil said. "That'd be the last place Ratigan would look for you!"  
  
Josh took me to his room, and he, Basil, and Dawson fitted me up in some raggedy old clothes of Josh's. I looked at myself in the mirror. I felt so strange in male's trousers. I felt so wicked. I looked so trashyâ€ except for my hair. The long brown locks flowed down my shoulders.  
  
"What should we do about those?" Dawson asked.  
  
"Guess we'll have to cut it," I sighed.  
  
Basil paced around me. "No. I wouldn't do that," he said. "We may need your hair if, say you're caught by the police and need to identify yourself. Yes, keep the hair. Just pin it up."  
  
Josh applied a cap to my head, and rubbed some soot on my face. "Perfect."  
  
"Why can't I be a girl?" I complained.  
  
"Because you'll either be found out by Ratigan, or taken advantage of by some low-life idiot." Josh packed some things for me in a sack. "Basil, I'm taking her to Iggie's now. I'm not too safe in that neighborhood anymore."

* * *

As we approached Iggie's house in the twilight hours, Josh gave me some quick tips. "Don't talk much. Silence is a lifesaver here. Don't make promises to anybody, and don't get involved in other's affairs. If they go drinking, pretend to be drunk. If they go stealing or commit some other crime, help them. They'll get suspicious if you don't." I nodded in agreement. "And sweetheart," he whispered, slipping me his switchblade. I looked at him. "Please be careful."  
  
Josh knocked on the door to Iggie's apartments. A hefty, tattooed mouse appeared. "Havers!" he exclaimed. "Old buddy, whacha doin' here?"  
  
"Iggie!" The two mice did a quick, strange handshake and patted each other on the back. "Ig, I gotta ask you for a favor. My mucker here, he's in a bit of trouble with the coppers right now. He smuggled a bunch of dope from New York over here, and got caught selling it. He needs a place to lie low for a couple o' weeks. Can you do it?" I noticed Josh had started speaking more like an uneducated bum as soon as he started speaking to Iggie.  
  
"Sure!" Iggie shook my hand vigorously. "Any buddy of ol' Havers here is a buddy of mine! New York, eh? Grand old place, ain't it?"  
  
"Ahâ€ yeah, real grand," I mumbled, trying to disguise my voice.  
  
We followed Iggie up the stairs to his living area. A surly looking woman sat in a chair in the corner, glaring at us. I could tell she was pregnant. "Havers, ya know my girl Gerrie, doncha?" Iggie said.  
  
"Yeah, how ya doin', Gerrie? Haven't seen you in a long time."  
  
She slowly rose to her feet. "What are you doing here, Josh Havers? I have half a mind to kick you out right now, you thinking you're so much better than us, leaving all your friends! I can't believe how low, conceited, rude- "  
  
"C'mon, we'll leave 'em to fight for now," Iggie whispered, pulling my arm. He showed me to a room with six mattresses on the ground. "This here is your quarters, misterâ€ misterâ€ what do they call ya?"  
  
"Ummm" I hadn't thought of that. I quickly racked my brain for a name. "Jimmy." I thought of an American outlaw. "James. Jimmy James." After I said it, I regretted picking such a name. Jimmy was a nickname for James. Another thought made me sick to my stomach. Ratigan's first name was James. "Oh, but they call me the Rattler back in the States," I added.  
  
Iggie hadn't seemed to notice my sudden nervousness. "Well, Rattler, I got three other boarders 'ere now. They'll be coming in soon enough from work."  
  
A glass shattered as Josh darted into the room. "That girlfriend of yours, she's a real thorn," Josh grinned. "Well, I gotta get going, Ig. Thanks, mucker. Watch yourself, pal," he said, patting my back.  
  
Iggie walked him to the door. I listened to their conversation from the bedroom.  
  
"That Rattler, he one toughie?" Iggie asked.  
  
"Rattler?" Josh was confused. "Oh! Yeah. Best dope dealer around."  
  
Iggie dropped his voice. I strained to hear what he was saying. "Uh, Havers? You best not come around for a whiles. In fact, don't even know what you're a doing here. Boss's been looking for you and that gal of yours, and he ain't sniffing the roses 'bout it."  
  
"I know."  
  
"Why don't you just give him the gal? He's gonna get ya sooner or later. Just hand the wench over, and you'll get a reward. Heck, Boss might even find ya another gal."  
  
I heard a thud, but didn't dare look to see what had caused it.  
  
"Ig, I would never hand my Meg over to that beast, even if it costs me my own life!"  
  
"You need to get far away from here. You're a gonna end up like Hank."  
  
"Don't bring my brother into this!"  
  
"Well, see why my baby got so crazy there at you? She's afraid. Me too, s'matter of fact. The Boss's making it an obsession to get even wit you."  
  
"That's why I should really leave, Iggie. I don't want you to get into trouble." I heard the door shut.  
  
_Hank. His brother. The one Ratigan murdered. How many lives will he ruin before his reign of terror ends?  
_  
Exhausted, I laid down on one of the mats and fell fast asleep.

* * *

JWJ: The Rattler? That's the best that you could come up with?  
  
Lizz: I like it!  
  
Meg: At least someone isn't criticizing me. 


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

* * *

Over the next two weeks I struggled to fit into the lifestyle that Josh had escaped from. I earned a job on the docks, loading boxes onto ships. It was tiring work, but most of Iggie's friends did it, and they had taken an almost immediate liking to me. It did not pay much, though, and I struggled to pay Iggie's rent charges each week.  
  
I kept ungodly hours, accompanying Iggie and the other mice to a bar called The Red Dragon until morning. They always complained about it, talking about another saloon called The Rat Trap, which had served their taste better. I gathered from these conversations that the police had shut it down, because it had once been an entrance to Ratigan's lair.  
  
Most of the thugs I hung out with worked for Ratigan. Many of them were searching for me (or, at least, Meg Sarentis), trying to bring me back to him. Most were mad at Josh for "abandoning" his true friends, so it wasn't hard to get many volunteers for that work. The mice tried to get me to join them in their work, but I always declined the offer, making up some excuse or other.  
  
Basil visited me every other day on the docks, bringing letters from Josh. He would be disguised as an old crone. I would write out a reply, and Basil would send it back to Josh. He told me they burned the letters after he was done reading them.

* * *

One night I accompanied Iggie and his friends to The Red Dragon for a game of poker. Even though one of my childhood friends had once taught me to play, I didn't really know the game, and lost most of my day's wages whenever I tried to bluff my way through.  
  
Tonight was no exception. I had just lost all my day's wages to another game of poker, and was examining my surroundings. The bar was dim, smoky lanterns making the only light. Cigarette smoke wafted through the air, making it unbearable to breathe. Several mice were accompanied by various ladies-of-the-evening, and many were already drunk. A young mouse dressed in a skimpy costume was dancing on the stage.  
  
I could hear the mouse behind me laughing uproariously. I glanced behind me. Chuck C. He was one of the toughest mice on the streets, Iggie had told me. No one wanted to cross Chuck's path when he was in a foul temper.  
  
Josh had written to me, telling me he was going to visit me at an old bridge by the railroad tracks on the outskirts of London. It would be the first time I saw him in two weeks. I had only an hour before I was to go meet him.  
  
I stole another glance toward a reserved table on the balcony above me. Ratigan came here almost every evening. He was sitting there as usual, smoking a cigarette and watching the entertainment on the stage below. I looked away before he got suspicious. To my relief, I saw Ratigan leave The Red Dragon after the girl danced off stage.  
  
Another very young mouse came and served us more drinks. She looked like she was only twelve years old. I took the cheap beer and pretended to drink out of the tumbler, laughing along with the rest of the mice. "Ah, this is the life, ain't it, Rattler!" Lenny smacked my back. I practically choked on some beer, still trying to laugh.  
  
"Let me go, let me go!" We looked in the direction of the noise.  
  
Chuck C. had grabbed the tail of our young barmaid, and was harassing her. "Aw, c'mon, honey!" He tried to drag her toward him. I was so mad to see a poor young girl taken advantage of by that moron. My blood boiled.  
  
"Please, let me go!" she cried.  
  
"Now c'mon here, I ain't gonna hurt-" I smashed my tumbler on his head. The girl scrambled away.  
  
Chuck lost it. He knocked over his chair, his face going red. He grabbed my collar and lifted me off my feet. "WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE, FLEABAG?" he roared, spitting on my face.  
  
"You gonna pick on a little girl, now?" I asked, trying to sound tough.  
  
"Chuck, the Rattler didn't mean it," Iggie said.  
  
"Oh, yes I did!" I yelled in a high-pitched voice.  
  
"Rattler, eh?" Chuck threw me to the ground. "Well, Rattler, let's see how well you do against Chuck C." 

The mice in The Red Dragon made a circle around us. Chuck pulled out his switchblade. I followed suit with Josh's blade. He lunged at me. I used my blade like a sword, blocking his from cutting into me. He backed off and tried again several more times. I then kicked him in the shin. He thrust the blade at me; I dodged it. He grabbed my hand and bit me, causing me to drop the switchblade. I punched him in the eye. We wrestled on the ground. He grabbed my throat and began to squeeze.

Basil once told me, when I was still working for him as a housemaid, that my temper was going to be the death of me one day. I saw the truth in this statement as I fought for my life against this powerful mouse. I could not get him off of me.

I saw my switchblade only inches within my grasp. I used all my strength to turn and grab it; he reacted by pulling a razorblade out of his pocket and stabbed my left arm with it. I cried out in pain. He pulled it out to strike again; I drove Josh's blade into his thigh. I yanked it out and scrambled to my feet, my hat toppling off my head.

"Get him!" Chuck screeched.  
  
I raced out of The Red Dragon. I ran for what felt like hours, trying to hide from Chuck. I finally made it to the bridge I was supposed to meet Josh. I took out a handkerchief and gingerly wrapped my arm, trying to stop the bleeding. It was in great amounts of pain. I wiped off Josh's switchblade on my trousers.  
  
I was exhausted. Josh told me not to meddle in others' affairs. _How could I be so stupid?_  
  
I suddenly realized the strands of hair flowing about my face. My hat was hanging on the back of my coat, caught by my thick hair. I quickly gathered it up again. Had anybody seen it?  
  
I waited for Josh for a long time, still worrying over the thought. Suddenly a sack was thrown over me. "We gotcha, Rattler!"

* * *

JWJ: That was so-  
  
Emma: WOULD YOU CAN IT FOR ONCE? We're all getting sick of your negative comments!  
  
JWJ: Hey, I never make fun of you! 


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

* * *

Sarah: I still don't understand why she didn't cut her hair.  
  
Emma: Who? Meg?  
  
Sarah: Yes. Ratigan's no idiot. He would have noticed that Meg was Meg.  
  
Emma: Not if he didn't expect her to be living amongst his band of thieves and murderers.  
  
RAEB: And druggies.  
  
Meg: I never said that they were druggies.  
  
RAEB: Well, alcoholics then.

* * *

"Professor, we got the little twerp here right now!"  
  
"Good. Let him go."  
  
I was dumped unceremoniously out onto the ground. I had to be in Ratigan's new lair. It was cold, but was decorated in an array of fine furniture and furnishings. I tightly held on to my switchblade as Ratigan dismissed the thugs. He slowly paced around me, grinning wickedly. "Well, well, well, what do we have here?"  
  
I stood up, trying to stay calm. "I don't know who you are and why was I brought here, so I going to, um, gonna leave this joint." I said shakily.  
  
"Meg, Meg, Meg. You can't fool me, my dear. Do you really think you could've put up this masquerade around me?" My arm was throbbing with pain.  
  
"I don't know any Meg, mister. I'm the Rattler." I started to back away toward the door, holding the blade in front of me. "I'm going back now."  
  
He strode toward me. I backed up against the door. Locked. He leaned in toward me and pulled off the hat. My hair fell about my face. I saw a look of triumph in his eyes. He grabbed me by the collar and slammed me against the door. The pain in my arm burned with searing pain.  
  
"WHAT WERE YOU DOING DRESSED AS A MAN?" he shouted. I could only gasp from the pain. "I SEACRHED SO LONG FOR YOU, AND THIS IS HOW YOU REPAY ME! BY PLAYING HIDE-AND-SEEK WITH ME?"  
  
Tears flowed down my face, but it wasn't because of him. My arm felt like it was being ripped apart. Ratigan noticed for the first time the bloody handkerchief. "What happened?" he asked, temporarily forgetting his anger.  
  
"Chuck C. He stabbed me," I gasped out. "Fight."  
  
"I saw the fight," he interrupted.  
  
"You left."  
  
"I came back. I had forgotten something," he answered distractedly. "I thought he might have stabbed you. Did he use his switchblade?"  
  
"No... dropped it... razorblade... very small." The room was starting to spin.  
  
"He used the razorblade?" Ratigan asked urgently. I nodded. I could barely feel myself. All I could feel was the numbing pain. I heard him in the distance saying, "Holden, get in here, quick!"  
  
"Meg..."

* * *

Josh saw the thugs who took Meg. He was just arriving there when he saw it happen. He tried to follow them, but lost them almost immediately. He then ran to Basil and the police for aide. They began their search, but the villains had left no clue as to their destination.  
  
They later found out from Iggie that she had been stabbed, and might already be dead. They questioned as many mice as they could, but came up with nothing to follow.

* * *

Ratigan paced the room, glancing every now and then at Meg lying on his bed. She had been having hallucinations before. She seemed calm for the moment.  
  
Chuck C. was notorious for using a poisoned razorblade if a fight got tough. Unfortunately, the poison had spread all over her body. She would be lucky to see the sun rise. Ratigan had done his best with an antidote and sucking the poison out, but it had almost been too late by then.  
  
Ratigan had heard of the Rattler, a tough mouse from the gangs of New York City, but the diabolical professor had also heard of the mouse's unwillingness to join up with him. Ratigan had left The Red Dragon and waited in the alley behind the bar, in hopes of "persuading" the unusually small mouse into his employment, when the noise of fighting inside brought the professor inside again. There, he had seen the "Rattler's" boyish cap knocked askew, and the "thug's" hair fall partially out.  
  
Meg groaned. Ratigan ran to the bedside. "Meg, can you hear me?" he asked.  
  
"Josh? Is that you?" she asked weakly.  
  
"No Meg, it's James."  
  
"James? James who?" She shivered. "Cold. It's cold in here."  
  
Ratigan placed another blanket on her. "Mama?" she asked.  
  
"No." Ratigan sighed. Didn't she remember him?  
  
"Papa?"  
  
"No Meg. James. James Ratigan."  
  
"Don't hurt Anne, please don't hurt her!" Meg tried to get out of the bed, but was too weak. Ratigan gently pushed her back down.  
  
"No one's going to hurt her," he spoke soothingly. "Meg, I'm here. I'm here to help you."  
  
"Help... me?" She tried to laugh, but started to choke. She stopped and gazed at him. "Nuhuh, I needa helpyou." she slurred. "You sold your soul to Lucifer."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Evil, evil. Poor James. You're a gonna go to Hell James if you don't change." She was quite for a while. Ratigan had thought she had fallen asleep, until she said, "James? You still there?"  
  
"Yes, darling."  
  
"James, tell me the truth. Am I going to die?"  
  
"Why." he stopped. "No, Meg. You'll be fine."  
  
"Liar," she breathed. "I'm going to die, you know it."  
  
"Don't say that," Ratigan pleaded. "You're going to live. Don't be afraid about-"  
  
"I don't care if I die. I'll go to heaven." She shivered again. "I go to heaven, you to Hell, James. Don't go to Hell. I put in a good word for you."  
  
"Meg, what are you talking about? You're not making any sense."  
  
"I put in a good word for you, James. Jesus will listen. He loves you."  
  
She weakly smiled at him and sank back down into the pillows. He gazed at her silent form for a while. She must be having more hallucinations, he thought. Meg was bolder half-dead than completely healthy. Suddenly beads of sweat appeared on her brow. "Cold. Very cold," she whimpered. "So cold."  
  
He built up the fire and tried to cover her with more blankets, but she still shivered uncontrollably. It was June. The summer air made even the underworld of London warm, and the room was boiling as it was. If only she were closer to the fire, Ratigan thought. Suddenly an idea occurred to him. He wrapped her up with blankets and carried her to an armchair next to the fire. He sat down, holding the girl close to him. She stopped shivering, but was now muttering incoherently to herself.  
  
Ratigan was afraid she would go mad. He tried to think of ways to make her sleep. He remembered a song his own mother had sang to him many times, and decided to try that. His deep baritone voice shook as he gazed down at the tiny figure in his arms.

__

_"Once upon a time of the past _

_In a summer's dream _

_An angel came from the sky _

_Were you as you seemed? _

Gentle flower, my heart 

_You stole away from me _

_I was left all alone _

_Did you love me? _

_The love of my life, my little rose, _

_I'll hold you through the night _

_Safely here, my angelic dove _

_My..."_

__

__

He stopped. She was fast asleep.

_"My only hope, my life."_

__

__

* * *

Meg: I wrote that song too. It's mine!  
  
JWJ: You know, the Meg in the story is a lot like you, Meg. She's a loud mouth, temperamental, annoying-  
  
Sarah: Who said that Meg's annoying?  
  
JWJ: _(ignoring Sarah)_ - and when she was hallucinating and saying weird things, she sounded exactly like you, except you're never hallucinating when you're saying weird things!  
  
Meg: Shut up.  
  
Emma: You know, supposedly the whole "sucking the poison out of her system" thing doesn't work in practice. The poison should have spread through all of her system by then, and she would be dead by now.  
  
Meg: Who says that she's still alive?  
  
Lizz: You didn't kill her?  
  
RAEB: Well, she killed GC and Ratigan... well, almost. You like to kill people.  
  
Meg: Just read! 


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

* * *

Meg: Everything from here on in is mainly why I made this story PG-13. Suggestive dialogue. Sarah was mad at me for it. Lizz pretended to be shocked, but then apologized. Emma and RAEB haven't even read this chapter yet. Leigh... no idea what her views are on this. And no one cares what JWJ thinks about this.

* * *

I opened my eyes. Ratigan was asleep, looking rather worn. I could clearly see the wrinkles in his face from here. He looked older than I had ever seen him. What was I doing here in _his_ arms? I could not even remember how I had gotten here in the first place. The last thing I could remember was Ratigan pulling off my hat and yelling at me.  
  
I tried to get up, but was too tangled in a big bundle of blankets. Ratigan woke up and almost jumped out of the armchair. He caught himself just in time. He looked down at me. "Meg! Are you all right?"  
  
"Yes." I answered uncertainly. "But... you... I... What am I doing here?"  
  
"Don't you remember?" Ratigan asked. He seemed disappointed. Then he said, "Chuck C. stabbed you with a poisoned razorblade. You almost died."  
  
"It was poisoned?" I looked at my arm and saw a bandage in the spot where Chuck had stabbed me.  
  
"You'll have stitches there for a couple of weeks."  
  
I looked around the room, expecting to see a doctor somewhere nearby. "How'd you get a doctor? You're a criminal, it would've been very hard to..." I stopped. He looked a little annoyed.  
  
"Besides mathematics, I studied medicine in college," he answered rather shortly. "I was the doctor."  
  
He lifted me up and set me on the bed. "Go back to sleep. You're not strong enough to do anything or go anywhere, so don't even think about escaping." He walked out of the room and slammed the door.  
  
I tried to get up again. It was useless.  
  
I then thought of something. I pulled back the covers, expecting to see my street garments. Instead I saw a black nightgown on me. I shivered and pulled the covers over me, suddenly feeling sick.

* * *

Over the next few days I started to recover from the poison. Ratigan was the only person I ever saw. He had to take care of my every need. At first I couldn't even feed myself. Then slowly, he started to help me strengthen my legs by holding me up as I tried to walk. Soon I started to walk on my own.  
  
I sought for an opportunity to escape, but Ratigan was almost always in the room. He ate in the room; he even slept in the armchair whenever I saw him sleep.  
  
Soon I had developed a plan. Ratigan had given me painkillers that were supposed to help me sleep. I had started to save them.

* * *

One evening I put all the painkillers I saved into his champagne glass. The crushed pills dissolved before Ratigan picked up his glass. He left the room for a while, locking the door behind him. He later came back with an empty glass. For an hour I waited, feigning sleep, for the pills to start. Finally I heard a book slide to the door, and his deep breathing coming from the armchair.  
  
I cautiously got to my feet, listening. When Ratigan did not wake up, I crept to the armchair. I waved my hand in front of his eyes. "James?" I whispered. He was fast asleep. I slowly walked toward the door. I was almost there. I inched the door open, little by little...

* * *

Basil arrived at his flat in Baker Street just as Mrs. Judson was serving tea. Josh looked up at him expectantly. Basil shook his head.  
  
"Oh no," Dawson muttered. "Poor girl."  
  
Mrs. Judson quickly wiped a tear from her eye. "Help yourself to some tea and crumpets Mr. Basil," the old landlady said as she walked into the kitchen.  
  
The great mouse detective sat down in his armchair and picked up his violin. He soothed himself with the music for almost an hour, trying to clear his head. He watched Josh closely. The poor mouse barely ate and slept anymore; he kept blaming himself for not doing anything to save her. Basil knew Josh was planning to do something, but he was not quite sure yet whether he should interfere.  
  
Basil was exhausted. Ratigan had duped him again! He was even more cunning than he had been before the Queen's Diamond Jubilee almost four years ago. No clues, no leads; Basil had reached a complete dead end. He closed his eyes, playing a sad melody.  
  
BAM! Basil was pulled from his reverie by Josh's banging his teacup upon the table. The young mouse stood up and snatched the violin out of Basil's paws. "Are you just going to sit there, playing your music, while she's out there fighting for her life?"  
  
"Josh, put that down!"  
  
"Oh, more worried about your "precious" violin than my fiancée, Basil?" he said sarcastically. "She's either been hurt or killed, or worse, and all because of HIM!" Josh threw the violin against the portrait of Ratigan hanging on the wall, smashing it into a million pieces. The bell tinkled as it rolled to Basil's feet. Basil clenched his paws to hold in his anger.  
  
"Mr. Havers, this is hardly the time to panic! Meg's a strong girl. Have faith in her! Meanwhile, I've been just as worried about her as you've been, Josh! I'd rather die myself than to see one hair on her head harmed."  
  
Josh still held the broken end of the violin. "Did you hear Iggie? Chuck C. stabbed her! She would've died almost immediately from it!"  
  
Before Basil could do anything, Josh stormed out of the flat. "I'm going to find her, if it's the last thing I do!"  
  
Basil raced to the door. Josh was already gone. He looked to Dawson. "Come on, old chap. We must follow him!"

* * *

Sarah: _(sarcastically)_ That really makes sense. You only incorporate Basil like, seven chapters into the story. Your stories are in the section marked: "Cartoons: Great Mouse Detective." And yet, Basil's been like a very unimportant character throughout the whole thing! You did the same thing in "Sing Sweetly!"  
  
Leigh: You're angry today.  
  
Meg: But she is right. I sort of realized that after I wrote this story. It's not fair to our favorite detective!  
  
Lizz: Oh, read the sequel to this story next Sarah! You'll get it!  
  
Meg: Wait until they finish reading this one. Oh yeah Lizz, Meg's not dead!  
  
Leigh: 'I'm getting better!'  
  
Sarah: That Monty Python quote is starting to get on my nerves. 


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

* * *

Suddenly the door slammed shut, and Ratigan spun me around, pinning me to the door. "A little escape artist, eh?" His expression was cold and menacing. "What were you doing, Megana?!"  
  
_I should have known it! He must have noticed the pills; he's too smart to fool. He emptied it out when he left the room that one time. He was just pretending to sleep.  
_  
"I hate you, Professor!" I yelled. "I hate you! I never wanted to marry you! You forced me to, remember?"  
  
"And then that no-good excuse for a mouse, Josh HAVERS," he spat out the name like poison, "he has to convince you to hate me! He's poisoned your mind, Meg. And you actually listened to him! Do you think he would've been able to save you when you were ill? Was he there defending you? No, he hid like a scared rabbit, Meg! He hid, and left you to die!"  
  
"NO!" I slapped him on the cheek. I was about to do it again, but this time he grabbed my paw and held it above me. He leered at me.  
  
"Well, I've WON, my dear. I"VE WON!"  
  
"NO YOU HAVEN'T!" I screeched. "Good shall always prevail over evil!"  
  
He laughed cruelly. "Always so dramatic. This is not one of your little 'plays'. No one is here to save you. You're quite alone," he said, clearly enjoying this.  
  
"You... you... monster!" I spat in his face. In a flash I was on the ground, blood dripping from my mouth where he had hit me.  
  
"A little lesson in appreciation, my dear," Ratigan said. "I attended you when you were on the brink of death, I took you into my own home, gave you food and shelter. And this is all I receive in return, hatred and disrespect?" When I didn't answer, he added, "Just ponder that thought, Mrs. Ratigan!" before he left the room.  
  
My failed escape and Ratigan's abuse had tired my already weak spirit. I fell asleep on the floor, praying to God for help.

* * *

I woke up to soft piano music. At first I had thought I was back at Baker Street, but my stinging lip reminded me of what had happened before. I looked around me. It appeared as though Ratigan had not come back since our fight.  
  
I pulled a blanket off the bed, wrapping myself up as I listened to the music. It was coming from the next room. I had a good guess of who the musician was, but got up anyway. The music sounded familiar.  
  
I brushed a few strands of hair from my face, trying to remember when I had last heard it. I crept to the door, inching it open. I gazed into another room, which I now recognized as the place where I had been taken to Ratigan the night I was captured. I saw Ratigan, his back to me, playing at an old piano in the corner, playing the music I had heard.  
  
I suddenly figured out where I had heard it before. I slowly walked up to him. His back was still turned towards me. Softly I sang out to the tune of the music, _"Did you love me?"  
_  
Ratigan played a wrong note. He turned and looked at me. "Pardon?"

"The song. You sang it to me," I answered, not quite sure what to say next.  
  
"Did you hear me?" He gave me a quizzical look.  
  
"Every word." I blushed. Why was I having this conversation with him? I knew why. I wanted to know the truth, to hear it from him. "Do you love me?" I asked.  
  
He walked up to me, taking my hair in his claws. "Come with me, my sweet Megana," he whispered. "You could have everything. You could live like a queen!"  
  
"But, do you-"  
  
He kissed me, slowly caressing my hair. His hands went from my hair down to my back, slowly tracing every curve of my body. I recoiled, suddenly aware of what he was up to. The professor held me more tightly, preventing me from moving.  
  
At that moment, Josh barged in, Iggie at his heels. I pulled away from Ratigan, ashamed that Josh had seen that. Josh held up a gun. I could see a pained look in his eyes. "Stay away from her, scum!" I looked more closely at him. He looked horrible, sickly and pale. What had happened to him?  
  
Ratigan pulled me in front of him. "Iggie, take that traitor out of here!" he roared. "Lock him up! Kill him! I don't care what you do with him. Just get rid of the miserable pip-squeak!"  
  
"Josh!" I yelled, struggling to break free of Ratigan's claws. "Josh, I-"  
  
"Meg! Unhand her, rat!"  
  
Immediately, a score of thugs were upon him. Ratigan threw me to two of them, and walked up to my fiancé, grinning wickedly. "What did you call me?" he crooned softly.  
  
"You heard it, sewer rat!" Josh spat at him.  
  
Ratigan laughed. "You're in no position to say that, boy." He leaned in closer, and whispered something into Josh's ear.  
  
"You didn't!" he screamed. "Meg! I'm sorry!"  
  
"It was my fault I was captured-"  
  
"SHUT UP, wench!" Ratigan yelled at me.  
  
Josh glared at him, his eyes full of hatred. "I'll kill you, Ratigan, if it's the last thing I do!"  
  
"Sorry, old chap, but it looks like you're the only one who will be killed anytime soon." Ratigan said.  
  
"No! Leave him alone!" I cried. "Ratigan, James, please!"  
  
"He wants to separate us, my dear," Ratigan replied.  
  
"Please, I'll... I'll... I'll willingly sleep with you, if only you spare his life!"  
  
Josh stared at me. "You haven't... you haven't slept with him yet?"  
  
"No."  
  
Josh struggled against the other mice. "You lied to me, rat! You told me. How dare you!"  
  
Ratigan shrugged. He looked at me. "My dear, you ruined the fun. I believe I should just put your former fiancé out of his misery now."  
  
"I refuse to become your whore if you kill him!"  
  
"Do you have a choice?" he asked, a slow smile spreading across his lips. He pulled out a gun and walked over to me. "Just a reminder of all you will lose because you disobedience to me, Havers." Ratigan grabbed me and gave me another kiss. Too weak to struggle, I stood there, helpless in his grasp as Josh thrashed about, cursing Ratigan.

* * *

Lizz: That's horrible! Kill Ratigan!  
  
RAEB: But then Meg would bring him back to life again.  
  
JWJ: Hey, there were two kissing scenes in there, and none of you girls went, "Awwwwwwww," like you always do.  
  
Sarah: No one wants to see the bad guy kiss the girl.  
  
Lizz: Don't kill Josh!  
  
Sarah: Hey, when's Basil going to make another 5-second appearance?  
  
Emma: Ratigan's not bad, really. It's kind of interesting to read about him and Meg.  
  
Meg: I just realized how many times I used terms like "scum," "cursing Ratigan," and "laughed cruelly." _(Bangs head against wall.)_ Why was I so stupid? 


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

* * *

Meg: Last chapter, folks. I decided that absolute chaos at the end would be more interesting. Enjoy.

* * *

"YOU"RE ALL UNDER ARREST! STAY RIGHT WHERE YOU ARE!"  
  
Ratigan spun me around, still holding tightly to me.  
  
A squad of policemen had surrounded us, holding guns. They forced the thugs to release Josh. My heart jumped for joy. Basil was among them!  
  
"The game's up, Ratigan!" Basil said.  
  
Ratigan grinned at him. He spun the barrel of the gun and pointed it at my head. "Basil," he said, "this gun has two bullets in it. Now," he continued, "how about a nice game of Russian Roulette?"  
  
"You wouldn't."  
  
"Would you like to risk it?"  
  
"She's your wife, Ratigan."  
  
"Shall I take her away with me alive or leave her here, dead?"  
  
Ratigan began to take backward steps as he talked, walking toward the bedroom door. I thought quickly. The gun had two bullets. The gun could only hold six at a time. If he pulled the trigger, I had 1/3 of a chance of getting killed. I decided to risk it.  
  
I kicked him in the shin with such a ferocity he fell backwards. Several people shouted as the gun went off; the bullet whizzed past me, only inches from my skull. I ran to Josh and collapsed into his arms. Ratigan darted into the bedroom.  
  
Basil slowly approached the door, followed by a few policemen. "Be careful," he warned. "He still has one more bullet." Basil kicked the door open and ran in. Five seconds later he came out. "Secret passage! He's escaped again!"

* * *

Emma: Um, that was absolute chaos.  
  
Leigh: One of the shortest chapters I have ever read.  
  
Sarah: And Basil made yet another short cameo appearance.  
  
Lizz: Ratigan escaped again!  
  
JWJ: You mean to tell me that the bad guy gets away again? That means we have to suffer through yet another story with Meg and Ratigan!  
  
Meg: Yep.  
  
Lizz: Russian Roulette?  
  
Emma: It's a game they used to play. You usually stuck a bullet into a pistol, spun the barrel, held the gun to your head, and pulled the trigger, hoping that you didn't blast your-  
  
RAEB: Ew!

Sarah: Um, Emma? They still play Russian Roulette.

Leigh: And for some reason there's a higher suicidal rate among cricket players than Russian Roulette players.

Everyone else: WHAT?

Leigh: _(embarrassed) _Um... Meg, you weirdo!  
  
Meg: Don't yell at me. I was trying to show how evil Ratigan is. The sequel to this story is "Goodbye to You." And I promise that Basil will be more involved in the plot in that story.


End file.
